


The Giant Leap So Fragile

by Morning_Glory



Series: Well I Guess This Is Growing Up [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), The Incredible Hulk (2008), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Complicated Relationships, Developing Relationship, F/F, F/M, Families of Choice, Issues, M/M, Multi, Other, Trope Bingo Round 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-22 00:52:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morning_Glory/pseuds/Morning_Glory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>University life is hard enough without the messy relationship stuff. Too bad Darcy's about to find out just how messy things can get.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This is my one small step...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First attempt at writing fic in about 11 years or so and first not in script format for at least 5 so apologies in advance for any incoming badness. All mistakes are mine, all of the characters are, sadly, not.

Darcy lets out an appreciative sigh as she watches Steve walk away. “Cliché though it might be, I hate it when he goes, but I love to watch him leave.” Sprawled in the grass next to her, Bucky chuckles. After a long moment where she feels him staring, Darcy flops back down next to him. Turning her head toward her friend, she recognizes the speculative look on his face as one to be wary of. “What?”

“You _like_ him.” It's rare that Bucky actually manages to fluster her, but Darcy can't help the blush that rises at the all too knowing tone and matching grin. She sighs again, knowing that trying to lie to him won't end well for her.

“What's not to like?” Darcy waggles her eyebrows in an exaggeratedly suggestive way that never fails to make Bucky laugh. The distraction tactic doesn't work. He shakes his head and rolls up onto his side, propping himself up with his right arm. 

“You gonna go for it?”

“Nope.” Darcy pops the last syllable as she closes her eyes, turning her face to the sun. The weather is surprisingly warm for early spring and a nice break from being stuck in classes or the lab. She hears Bucky shifting around and cracks one eye open to peer at him as he settles on his back, resting his head on her stomach.

“Why not? And if I hear even a hint of the words ' _not good enough_ ' we're gonna have problems, Doll.” Darcy pokes at his shoulder for the nickname and he makes a grab for her hand. Bucky links their fingers and pins her hand against his chest, laughing when Darcy sticks her tongue out at him but doesn't try to pull away.

“Taken means off-limits, you know that.” Bucky goes still against her. Beneath her hand Darcy feels the faint uptick in the thumping of his heart.

“Taken?” His tone is an odd mix of curious and hesitant that has Darcy lifting her head to look at him. “What makes you think he's taken?”

“Overheard phone call,” Darcy studies the faint frown that appears as Bucky gets lost in his own thoughts. “And no, before you say it, I wasn't eavesdropping, I just heard something in passing when I was picking up Thor a couple of weeks ago.”

“So you don't know who.” 

Darcy drops her head back to the grass and shrugs. “Doesn't matter. There's someone, which means do not pass go, do not collect $200.” Bucky snorts and Darcy cuts him off before he can make his comment, glaring at him with one eye. “Yeah, whatever you're about to say, don't. Just don't.” Bucky closes his mouth but shoots her an unrepentant grin. Darcy tugs her hand loose and swats at his chest, but he rolls out of reach before it hits.

Bucky pulls himself upright, sitting cross-legged just out of Darcy's reach. He rests his elbows on his knees and hunches with his chin resting on his closed fists. He studies Darcy with such a focused intensity that makes her pulse jump and her thoughts drift to areas that she had long ago labelled forbidden. She drags herself out of that mental minefield to focus on his words now.

“So, what? You're not even a little curious? I mean, for all you know it could be _Stark_ , and you, what, just don't care?” Darcy freezes up as the mental image of his suggestion hits her. She can't help the faint, embarrassing, squeaking noise she makes and Bucky watches her, amused, as she takes a calming breath before countering his argument.

“Last I knew, _Tony_ was still engaged to Pepper,” Darcy pushes herself up and leans toward Bucky as if she's about to share a secret with him. “So if your little theory is right about them, well, then they both deserve a steel-toed boot to the balls care of Tasha.” 

Bucky flinches, instinctively covering himself. “Vicious, Doll.” Darcy giggles uncontrollably at his horrified expression. He mock-glares at her, lips twisting into a devious smirk seconds before he moves.

Darcy shrieks with laughter as Bucky pounces, wrapping his arms around her and dragging her into his lap. She struggles halfheartedly against his hold for a few moments before giving up and settling against him. He rests his chin on her shoulder and they share a quiet moment while Darcy catches her breath before Bucky speaks up, tone surprisingly serious. 

“You know, you've already come up with a fix to the possible Steve, Tony, Pepper situation.” Darcy twists slightly to look at him and frowns as she thinks about it.

“Have I?”

“Something I overheard you say to Jane a while back. Give me a minute to make sure I've got this right.” He takes a deep breath, face perfectly solemn. “I believe your exact words were, ' _threesome or Gee Tee Eff Oh_.'”

The sound that comes out of Darcy's mouth can only be described as a cackle and the force of her laughter almost topples her out of Bucky's lap. He tightens his arms around her and holds her upright as Darcy laughs herself to tears. 

It is a long few minutes before Darcy recovers enough composure to speak, all too aware of how Bucky is wrapped around her the entire time murmuring half-understood words in her ear.

“Okay now?” Darcy nods, still fighting the odd giggle as she leans back into Bucky's chest and drops her head back against his shoulder.

“Look, I don't know how you heard that, but for what it's worth, context matters.”

“Oh, so you weren't suggesting Jane and Thor should...” He closes his mouth when Darcy's hand hits his thigh with a sharp thwack. She digs her nails in until he hisses for good measure. “Dammit, Darce, retract the claws.”

“That is my roommate and my brother you're talking about, so watch it.” Bucky stares. Darcy stares back, knowing he wants an explanation but hesitating to give him more ammo to tease her about later. As the staring contest draws out Bucky makes increasingly ridiculous faces at her until she cracks. “Fine. I was winning Jane a shipping war. Don't ask.”

“You'll tell me eventually,” Bucky grins as Darcy pushes herself out of his lap and stands. Her spine cracks as she stretches her arms over her head, stiff from the odd positions she's been holding. “You tell me everything.”

“Oh, honey, no. That's only besties and Clint wins that, no question.” Darcy pats him on the head as she rolls her eyes. “Now come on. You can walk me to the lab.”

“Wait, you're telling me I don't outrank Clint?” The look of exaggerated outrage on his face makes Darcy laugh. He shakes his head as he stands, mock-glaring at her as he brushes the loose bits of grass off his clothes. “Harsh, Doll.” They gather their bags and start walking back toward the building. Bucky slings his arm over Darcy's shoulder as they walk. “You coming over tonight? Bruce promised Greek.”

“Nah, Jane set up another blind date.” She pouts, leaning further into Bucky's side. “I can't believe I'm missing out on Greek night.”

“So bail,” he shrugs, adjusting his stride to accommodate the shift of Darcy against him. “I need someone to help me keep an eye on the Steve, Tony, Pepper situation.” Bucky dodges to the side as Darcy jabs an elbow at him. He chuckles. “Threesome.”

“You're never gonna let that go, are you?” Darcy sighs as they reach the door of the lab building. Bucky grins at her as he moves ahead to hold the door open for her with an exaggerated bow. Darcy rolls her eyes at him again. He walks beside her silently for a minute, studying her with that look, the one that makes her wary.

“So have you ever...?” Bucky attempts to mimic the overly goofy suggestive look Darcy had tried to distract him with earlier, throwing in a leering once-over that makes her laugh. She squashes the tiny part of her that still wishes he really actually meant it as she jams her thumb against the button for the elevator harder than strictly necessary.

“What? Why would you even...?” Darcy cuts herself off and stares at him. There's something buried in his expression that she can't read, but almost completely hidden by the humour. “Oh. Oh, I see what this is. You're going to try to get me to agree to be your third in case you ever find some poor sap foolish enough to agree to that with you.” She giggles so hard she has to lean against the wall for support. 

“You caught me,” Bucky's voice is deadpan, but the corners of his lips are twitching up like he's fighting a grin. The elevator dings as the doors slide open behind Darcy. She pushes off the wall and steps in, so focused on selecting the right button she doesn't notice when Bucky doesn't follow. “So?”

“Well, since you offered so nicely. Sure, why not.” Darcy's voice drips with sarcasm as she rolls her eyes. Her lips twist into a teasing grin as she turns to face him, surprised to see him still standing in the hallway with an absolutely devious smirk on his face.

The door slides shut, leaving her standing alone inside the elevator, slack-jawed and staring, the echo of his parting shot echoing in her ears.

“Deal.”


	2. Dreams that never come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy's glad Bucky isn't acting any weirder than usual around her. Maybe he wasn't the one she should have been worrying about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this decided to take a few detours along the way but basically ended as intended. Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. All characters are, sadly, not.

“So, how was the date?”

“Meh,” Darcy groans and waves her hand dismissively in the direction of Bucky's voice without lifting her head from the top of the picnic table. He laughs.

“That good, huh?” He drops onto the bench across from her, his backpack hitting the ground with a dull thud. He reaches over to pat her head and she swats at his hand.

“Nah, it was okay,” Darcy tilts her head to the side so she can look at him. Even with his scruffy jeans and messy hair he gets appreciative glances from passing students. “He was nice enough, just... meh.”

“Then why'd Jane pick him?” Bucky swipes the orange from her bag and starts peeling it. Darcy lets him, long since resigned to the futility of actually trying to stop him from stealing her food. It’s a problem; one he shares with all of their male friends.

“Oh, you know what she’s like. Jane fixates on the little details.” Darcy finally sits up properly, accepting the orange slice Bucky offers her before continuing. “So imagine how that translates to this. I can have a laundry list of things and she'll pick one and run with it. Like I once mentioned an actor who, among other fine traits, happened to have these ridiculous blue eyes. Next date? Amazing blue eyes. But the things that came out of his mouth were so horrible, I _may_  have chucked a basket of bread sticks at his head 20 minutes in.”

“Impressive,” Bucky chuckles as he puts the sectioned orange on the table where they can both reach it.

“Yeah. That was one of the worst ones.” Darcy rolls her eyes at the memory and tactfully doesn't mention the dates that ended with her taser. She’s secretly glad to find Bucky isn't acting weird around her after the way their last conversation ended. “Seriously though, only one lasted more than one date. A few didn't even make it that far.”

“So what made that one so special?” Bucky pulls Darcy's bag across the table and starts digging through it. He makes a triumphant sound as he extracts her bottle of fruit juice.

“Weeeell...” Darcy hesitates for a moment, taking a deep breath before jumping in. “We already kinda knew each other? Jane set me up with her lab partner after she caught me... _visually appreciating_  a couple of red-headed friends of ours. Things just clicked I guess”

“Wait, what?” Bucky perks up, suddenly paying closer attention. “Our only friends who have red hair are Tasha and Pepper.” Darcy just stares at him, waiting for it to hit him. He chokes and his voice goes up almost a whole octave. “You were checking out Tasha and Pepper. And Jane caught you.”

“Pretty much.” She shrugs at the look Bucky is giving her. “What? They're both hot. I commented on it. Jane ran with it.”

“Yeah, okay. Not arguing that one.” Bucky concedes after a moments pause. “They _are_  hot. And previous conversations prove you do seem to spend a lot of time objectifying your friends.” Darcy shakes her head and laughs.

“Yes, I'm a terrible human being who is surrounded by so much pretty that I just can't help myself.”

He pauses. "So who was Jane's lab partner then? Cuz the only redhead I remember in her lab was... No. No way.

“Did I say it was a redhead?” Darcy offers dryly, a sad attempt at distracting him, knowing it is way too late but unsure about his reaction. She remembers vividly the last conversation they’d had about someone she was in a relationship with. It hadn’t ended well for either of them.

“You dated Rachel? Jesus, _fuck_ , that's hot.” Bucky pauses. “How did I not know about this?” He stares blankly somewhere over her left shoulder, clearly lost in his own thoughts.

“What's wrong with him?” Natasha slides onto the bench next to Darcy, putting her own lunch down on the table. She steals one of the remaining orange slices and grins at the exasperated look Darcy shoots at her. OK, so not just the guys then.

“I think I broke his brain.” Bucky is still staring blankly in Darcy's general direction and hasn't acknowledged Natasha's presence.

“Not so difficult. It is a remarkably simple brain after all.” Natasha teases, her smile sharp. That finally drags Bucky out of his stupor.

“Couldn't have been that bad if you put up with me for so long,” he snaps back with a grin.

“Oh, you don't think I dated you for your _brain_ , do you?” Comes the smooth reply, laced with humour. Their banter carries an extra level of snark with each other, something that occasionally lead to epic fights when they were together, but is almost always only in jest. It is part, they worked out eventually, of why they work better as friends than as a couple. Natasha turns her attention back to Darcy. “What was so shocking.”

Darcy keeps one eye on Bucky as she answers. “I'm not sure which part is messing him up more, finding out I dated Rachel, or that it happened because Jane caught me looking at you.”

“Well, I _am_  worth looking at,” Natasha's lips twitch as she fights a laugh. “Or so I've been told. You didn't know about Rachel?” The last comment aimed at Bucky.

“You did?” There is honest surprise in his tone that Darcy wonders at. It wasn't as if she hid the relationship.

“Of course. But I actually pay attention to my friends.” Bucky makes a face at her and she laughs, waving him away with her hand and turning back to Darcy. “What happened to her? You two were good together.”

“Internship in London,” Darcy shrugs but her smile turns slightly melancholy as she thinks about her ex. “Huge opportunity for her, but with the long distance thing we agreed to just be friends. We keep in touch. Sometimes she sends me weird things in the mail."

“At least you parted on good terms,” Natasha's tone is understanding as she squeezes Darcy's shoulder. She glances at Bucky and smirks. “Now, if you really want to break him, tell him _how long_  you've been looking at me.” Natasha winks at her and Darcy laughs, because of course she knows. Natasha _always_  knows.

“You got me through some rough patches during puberty, I'll say that,” Darcy considers leaving it there but figures she may as well go all out. These people are her friends. They can handle it. “Actually, that goes for both of you. Because seriously? Being stuck in rooms with you two going at it like it was going out of style was better than any sex ed class and definitely inspired a few fantasies along the way.” 

“ _Now_  he's broken.” Natasha's smirk shifts to an outright grin at just how flustered Bucky is, wide eyed and making an odd wheezing noise.

“You know he's probably perving over the idea of _us_  together now.” Darcy shoots back, fighting off a laugh at getting revenge on Bucky for his little parting joke the day before.

“So return the favour. Start imagining him with Steve.” Natasha throws out entirely too casually as she actually starts to eat her lunch. Darcy cracks up at the expression of pure shock on Bucky's face. She crosses her arms on the table and buries her face in them, as much to hide her blush over the mental pictures as to muffle the laughter.

“Oh, you are quickly approaching Clint as my favourite with that comment.” Darcy chokes out after a long minute of fighting to calm down.

“High praise indeed, coming from you.” Natasha grins at her. Darcy decides to follow her example and actually eat. She pulls her bag away from the still stunned Bucky and digs out the sandwich she packed.

“You know, I kinda really love that all my friends are such total perverts.” Darcy muses as she picks up half of the ham sandwich.

“Well, like does call to like.” Clint appears beside her without warning and takes a bite of Darcy's sandwich while she's still holding it. He ignores her outraged swearing and practically wraps himself around her to make full use of his puppy-dog eyes. Darcy sighs, unable to deny that look, and passes him what’s left of the half. He plants a noisy kiss on her cheek before relocating to the other side of Natasha. “Better hurry if you don't want the other half of this to disappear. The others weren't far behind me." He mumbles around a mouthful of ham. Darcy takes the warning for what it is and rushes to finish the other half before the others actually show up. Clint steals the bottle of juice Bucky abandoned on the table and drinks before handing it off to Darcy to finish. Natasha watches them with a fond, if slightly exasperated, smile as Darcy just goes along with it.

The rest of their group turns up, as promised, only a few minutes later, just as Darcy is swallowing the last bite. “Sorry guys, but everything has already been stolen. I hope you brought your own food." Most of them brush off the light teasing for what it is and pick spots around the table. Tony throws in some extra grumbling, because _Tony_ , but shoots Darcy a wink and a grin.

“Hi, Darcy,” Betty’s voice is quiet and slightly hesitant as she addresses Darcy from a couple of places down the bench. Darcy glances at her briefly before grabbing her bag and standing from the table.

“I’m done, so I’m gonna clear out so you guys can eat at the table.” There is a round of protests and some frowns from the group. Betty stares down at the table, her fists clenched in her lap. Bruce puts his arm around her, frowning at Darcy as she moves away. 

Darcy ignores everyone and hauls her bag to the base of the tree a few feet away. She plops down on the ground between the roots, close enough to the group to still hear them, but far enough away to not be expected to participate and leans back against the trunk. After a couple of minutes, Bucky comes over to join her, lying down with his head in her lap. He is quiet for a few minutes, staring up at her as Darcy runs her fingers through his hair. She drags her nails over his scalp lightly, smiling as he closes his eyes and makes a sound resembling a purr low in his throat.

“She’s trying, Darce,” Bucky’s voice is low, barely above a whisper so only Darcy will hear him. “And like it or not, she _is_  your sister.”

“I said all I had to say about that years ago. I’m done talking about it.” Her hand stills but stays tangled in his hair. Her smile disappears and she closes her eyes to avoid the look Bucky is giving her.

“So, what?” He continues, undeterred by Darcy’s withdrawal. “You’re just gonna hold onto this grudge forever?”

“If I do, that’s _my_  choice, not anyone else's.” Darcy hisses, sharp and defensive in the face of the subject not being dropped. “And if you don’t think I can, have Tony to tell you the story about me and Howard sometime.”

“I don’t doubt that you _could_ , Darce,” Bucky’s voice is still low, edged with concern. He reaches for her free hand and tangles their fingers. “I’m just not sure if you _should_.”

“Yeah, well it's not up to you. And you don’t know the whole story.” Darcy tries to pull her hand away but Bucky won't let go. She opens her eyes to glare at him and removes her other hand from his hair.

“So _tell_  me. You know you can tell me anything.” Darcy shakes her head at him, refusing to respond to that. This is more old territory being retread. “Darce.”

“I’ve never asked _any of you_  to choose. _Do not_  put me in the position of making that choice _for you_." Bucky goes still at her tone. She hasn't used it around him in years, not since she was seventeen and fighting tooth and nail to keep living with Clint. Darcy knows he remembers that fallout; the months it took for her to even talk to him again. "Change the subject, _Barnes_ , or I will walk away. You know I will.”

Bucky is saved from having to answer by the well-timed appearance of Jane coming to sit with them.

"Looking a little tense over here. Everything okay?" The tiny astrophysicist asks in a more gentle tone than usual, surprising Darcy. The two have been roommates since Darcy started at Culver, giving Jane a passing awareness of the minefield of issues she was joining even before she started dating Thor, but she usually avoids the conflicts. Darcy doesn't have it in her to take out her sudden bad mood on Jane in the face of the effort she makes now.

"Bucky isn't impressed by your matchmaking skills, Jane." Darcy knows it is taking the easy way out, but anything to move away from the drama of the other conversation. "He seems to think only one successful relationship is a poor stat given the number of attempts." The look Jane gives her says she knows exactly what Darcy is doing, but she plays along to help ease the tension.

"Not my fault if you're too picky." Jane gives an exaggerated sniff, unable to keep her lips from twitching. Darcy feels her own lips twitch in response. "And if he doesn’t like it, maybe _he_  should try next time."

"Try what exactly?" Bucky joins the conversation, voice still a little tight. "Setting her up or being set up _with_  her?" Jane shoots him one of her rare mischievous smiles and gives him a thorough once-over that leaves him squirming slightly against Darcy.

"Thor, your girl is giving me the eye. You might want to come distract her." Darcy snorts quietly, genuinely amused by the awkward twitching of Bucky against her as Jane continues to stare. This is the approachable Bucky she likes being around, not the one poking at old wounds.

Thor breaks away from the group to wrap himself around Jane, some teasing and catcalling following from the table. Once settled, he levels his own look at Bucky and how he is sprawled out. "Should I be asking about your intentions toward my baby sister, Bucky?"

"What? No, you should be asking what your girlfriend's intentions for me are though. I’m feeling like a piece of meat here, big guy." Thor continues to stare at Bucky as Jane fills him in and Bucky continues to squirm. There is silence for a long moment before Thor speaks up.

"I would like to hear what Bucky thinks is a better solution." He wears his scary-serious face, the one he only uses when he's messing with someone. Darcy bites her lip to keep from grinning, certain that Bucky doesn't know it. The guys may have been friends for years now, but Darcy grew up with Thor. She knows every trick he's got; taught him some of the better ones, even.

Bucky opens his mouth a few times but doesn't manage any words. Eventually he rolls to his side, looking at the table for help and catching Steve watching them. He laughs. "Steve! You need to take Darcy out and show her a good time. Save her from Jane's terrible blind dates." Steve blushes faintly at being the sudden focus of everyone's attention, while Bucky grins triumphantly up at Darcy.

"Not sure you should be proud of that," she warns, struggling to fight her own blush by glaring at Bucky. "I mean, is it really a good idea to be talking like that about either of us after he's already been giving you the side eye about your intentions?"

"Meh, what's he gonna do about it?" Bucky waves Darcy's comments off but keeps one eye trained on her brother. Thor gives a low chuckle and starts to unwind from around Jane with a menacing grin. Bucky stays frozen for a short moment before scrambling to his feet and taking off across the grass. Thor looks to Darcy. Her grin is only slightly evil.

"Git'im." He laughs and launches himself after Bucky. Jane laughs as she moves over to claim Bucky's previous spot. Both women look up as Steve comes over.

"Should I ask?" He keeps his eyes on Thor and Bucky as he settles down next to Darcy, close enough that their sides touch from shoulder to hip. Darcy blinks at the unusual invasion of space and Jane shoots her an intrigued look.

“Bucky's a mouthy little shit,” Jane answers bluntly and Darcy buries her face in her hands to muffle her laughter. _There's_ her Jane. 

Steve looks as though he's thinking about it then shrugs. "Can't argue with that." Jane grins and her attention shifts back to Darcy.

“Was the date that bad, really?”

“He spent most of dinner talking about his experiments in every gory detail.” She sighs at Jane's blank look. “Including how he'd spent his morning dissecting lab rats? _In detail._ " Jane winces and Steve makes a sound of disgust. "So new rule. No more dates from the science department."

“We're not _all_  bad.” Tony calls from the table, clearly eavesdropping. Darcy waves a hand at him dismissively.

“Yeah, well I've got enough of you misfits in my life already, with your rules and logic. It's disgusting, really, and I'll have no more of it. Down with the science department!"

"You're just jealous that you're not cool enough to be one of us, soft-sciencer." Tony throws back and even though she knows he's just teasing, Darcy can’t help the flinch. It would have passed unnoticed if not for having two people resting against her. Both looks to her in concern but find her appearing perfectly fine, exchanging eyebrow twitches with Clint.

"You know I just want you to be happy, right?" Jane keeps her voice low, drawing Darcy's attention back.

"I know, and I appreciate that, but come on Jane. Do I look like need someone else to make me happy?"

"No, but getting laid regularly might make you less grumpy." Steve chokes on a laugh as Darcy groans, gently knocking the back of her head against the tree. "I mean, how long has it even been?"

“ _That's_  what this is about?” Darcy slams her head back harder one extra time before shaking her head at Jane. “You think I need some random hookup? You don't think if I wanted that I would have gotten it out of the way by now?" She regrets her choice of words instantly.

“Wait,” Jane has that look on her face. The same one she gets when she discovers something new in the labs. Her voice is barely above a whisper now. “Darcy, are you a virgin?"

“Uh, did you forget walking in on me and Rachel?” Darcy ducks her head, feeling it as Steve turns to stare at her. She won't look. She can't.

“That’s not what I... you’ve never with a guy?” Darcy barely stifles her embarrassed groan. This is scientist-Jane, hot on the trail of a new discovery. She won't stop until she gets her answer.

“Technically, no. Not everything.” Darcy sighs, keeping her head down and voice low to avoid anyone else overhearing. Nothing she can do about Steve though. Damn. "I mean, I could have. And Clint offered once." She can feel the muscles in Steve's arm tense as he clenches his fists. The dark look on his face has her reaching out to grab his arm. She tightens her grip until he looks at her. "Just before I moved into the dorms. He knew I hadn't and that I was worried about it and offered. Never happened, but I've always been grateful that he did."

Steve's expression softens and he sighs, lifting his arm to wrap it around her shoulders and pull her into a hug. Darcy bites her lip and sends a wide-eyed look down at Jane, who stares back in shock. It's not that they've never done this before, hugging and cuddling, but Steve is almost never the one to initiate the more physical interactions. He doesn't just invade her personal space the way Bucky and Clint do.

Now Darcy is the one squirming, the confusion of Steve’s current actions and admitting to her crush on him to Bucky yesterday combining into a twisted knot of anxious awkwardness in her gut. Jane watches her with concern and Steve realises quickly something is off and loosens his hold. Darcy doesn't pull away completely, just enough to give herself some breathing room.

"Have you ever thought about it?" Steve asks, his expression unreadable when Darcy finally brings herself to look at him. "Giving it a go with Bucky? I mean, the way you two are together, it's... It's something. You guys could have something good.”

“Steve, what the hell,” Darcy closes her eyes and drops her head back against the tree. Before he can say anything else the sound of pounding footsteps distracts them all. Darcy opens her eyes to see Bucky charging towards them.

“Better get moving, punk,” Bucky calls out as he grabs his bag, not slowing down and turning back the way he just came. “Coach’ll skin you if you’re late.”

“Shit,” Steve mutters, untangling himself from Darcy and standing up. “Sorry, Darce.” He leans down to plant a quick kiss on her forehead before grabbing his own bag and taking off after Bucky.

“Um, what the hell just happened?” Jane sits up, staring after Steve and Bucky as they run past a returning Thor. 

Darcy makes a feeble squeaking sound and buries her face in her hands.


	3. Push has finally come to shove

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Avoidance can only last for so long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter fought me tooth and claw, but it's finally here. Kinda conflicted about it, but needed to stop messing with it. If things don't change too much, should only be one more chapter before this part of the story ends. As always, all mistakes are mine, all characters are not.

The student run café where Darcy works is nearly empty so close to closing time. It's been a slow shift and only a couple of the regulars are still hanging around, so Darcy starts the process of closing for the night. It's not the greatest job, but it pays the bills. The bell over the door rings as it opens and Darcy suppresses the urge to sigh. She looks up, her fake smile shifting into a real one as she sees Thor. 

“Isn't it past your bedtime or something, old man?” She teases as he drops into one of the chairs at the table she's wiping down. He grins at her.

“You're one to talk, _baby_ sister. I went by your dorm and Jane said you picked up a shift.”

“Yeah, someone called in sick so I figured, why not? Can always use the extra cash.” Darcy shrugs, manoeuvring around Thor as she keeps working.

“You know you don’t have to do this.” His tone of voice is softer than most people would ever expect possible from a man his size, but Darcy knows better. He's been practising it on her since the first time they met, when she was 4 and he was 7, and wielding it with ruthless efficiency ever since.

“Of course I do. How else am I supposed to afford to, you know, live?” she tries for flippancy but knows it won't throw him off. They're going to have this out. Again.

“Father would cover everything in a second if you'd let him.” Darcy shakes her head, dragging the closest chair into place with more force than necessary before moving to the next one. Thor's eyes follow every move, measuring her mood for how hard he can push. “He fucked up in a major way. No one denies that; not even him. He made a mistake but he did it out of concern for you. And he’s spent years trying to make up for it. Are you planning to hold that against him for the rest of his life?”

“Maybe,” Darcy snaps quietly, keeping her voice low enough that she won't be heard by the remaining customers. “If he was really sorry he would have owned up to what really happened instead of using protecting me as an excuse.” Darcy swats at his shoulder and motions for him to get up so she can put away his chair. “And whatever gave you the impression that I'm a forgiving person?”

“You can be, when you want.” Thor grabs the last chair and arranges it for her, following her to the next table and continuing to help as the stragglers finally clear out. “You forgave Loki and I for so many things over the years. You forgave Bucky and Tony more than once.”

“None of you did anything close to what he did. Or like Betty, before you say it.” Darcy locks the door, flips the sign to closed as Thor starts working on the next table.

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding the group? Because of the other day?” Darcy opens her mouth to deny it but Thor cuts her off. “Bucky told us. And you have, we’ve all noticed it.” He stops, leaning forward onto the chair in front of him, head hanging low. “God Darce, please, tell me this isn’t going to end up like last time?”

“No,” her voice is soft, her anger dissipating quickly at seeing her normally unbreakable brother hunched in on himself like a kicked puppy. She is relieved when he relaxes at her assurance. “No, it's not like last time, I promise. And it’s not because of whatever Bucky said, though, honestly, I'm might tase the next person who tells me I _have_ to fix things with Betty.” 

“So if that's not why you're avoiding us, what is?” Thor ignores the jab; knows better than to get into that minefield with her, especially in public. It never ends well for anyone.

“Bucky and Steve have been acting strange lately.” Darcy starts on another table as she explains, leaving the chairs for Thor to deal with. “And before you say it, I mean stranger than usual for them. It was bugging me so I thought a few days apart might be good. I can't help it if you guys are all one ridiculous package deal of crazy.” Thor's right eyebrow ticks up as he looks at her.

“You want I should... talk to them? Break some kneecaps maybe?” Thor asks in an exaggeratedly shady way that makes Darcy laugh.

“Nah. I got this. Eventually they'll stop being weird.”

Thor snorts at the comment. “I've known them nearly 7 years and haven't seen it happen yet.” Darcy grins at him, glad for his attempt to lighten the mood, but his next comment is 100% protective big brother. “Honestly though, you'll tell me if they do anything that doesn't feel right?”

“If they get too weird I promise you can beat them up for me.” She rolls her eyes, still smiling. Not that she'd ever admit it, but it always makes her a little mushy when any of her brothers get protective about her. “Now get back to work, slacker.” Thor laughs and gets back to squaring the chairs away, filling her in on all the news from home as they work. With the two of them it doesn’t take long to finish and soon the café is locked up for the night.

Thor walks her back to her dorm, keeping the conversation light, and they are both laughing when they finally reach her room. Darcy says goodbye and lets him have some time alone with Jane. He doesn't stay long, but mentions a party the group is going to the next night, if they want to come. He leaves after hearing their tentative yes and Jane starts getting ready for bed. 

Darcy settles herself at her desk, still having a couple hours of homework to get through before her early class in the morning. It's going to be a long night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Darcy is the last to leave the classroom, held back by the professor wanting to make sure she was okay after being unusually quiet during class. When she finally makes it into the hall Bruce is waiting for her, leaning against the wall across from the door. 

“Can we talk?” 

Darcy hesitates. “Bruce, if this is about the other day...”

“Look, I know you have your reasons,” he pushes off from the wall and stops in front of her. “Betty's told me some, and I suspect there's worse she hasn't. I'm not here to tell you to forgive and forget, okay? Just hear me out for a minute? Please?”

Darcy sighs. “Fine. But I'm not promising anything.” She motions for him to follow her back into the empty classroom and shuts the door to give them a little privacy.

“I know things between you two have always been rough,” Bruce pulls himself up to sit on one of the desks at the front of the room, watching Darcy pace. “And considering what she has told me, the fact that you're even willing to be in the same room as her is surprising. But then, you're smart enough to know that a lot of what she did back then was because of her father.”

“I know,” Darcy leans back against the teacher's desk, facing Bruce, but not actually looking at him. “And that does make a difference, but not as much as you'd think.”

Bruce sighs. “She was going through a lot too, and he was manipulating her.”

“Believe me, I know how much of an asshole the General can be.” Darcy rolls her eyes. “I do actually remember what it's like being around him. But it's not like he was there holding a gun to her head and forcing her to torment me. She made that choice. Now she's living with the consequences.”

“And she's tried to make up for that for as long as I've known her, but you always pull away.” Bruce frowns as Darcy waves a hand dismissively at him. “No, really. Darcy, she worries about you. We all do. Taking on all of this stuff on your own. Pushing away any help. She's afraid you'll burn yourself out.” He hesitates as Darcy shakes her head at him before deciding to keep pushing on. “Strained though things are, you allow her this much, and she's afraid of losing that. Of losing _you_.”

“I'm doing what I can, okay?” Bruce winces slightly at the sharpness of her answer, her lack of sleep and the subject matter combining to put her on edge. “And I've more than proved I can take care of myself.”

“If Clint hadn't stepped in...”

Darcy cuts him off. “I would have reappeared at 18 with my own apartment instead of moving in with him. I had a plan, Bruce.” Darcy bites her lower lip, finally looking up at him. “When I let Clint talk me into living with him, it wasn't for me. It was for the rest of you.”

“Well, for what its worth, I'm glad you did.” Bruce walks the distance between their desks and sits next to her. “I know its tough, the way things are. We were friends once, before I started dating Betty. I'm sorry we lost that.”

“Yeah, we were friends.” Darcy leans over slightly to rest her head on his shoulder. “Still are. And I don't hold it against you, you know. You and Betty, you guys are good together. Meant to be and all that.” She can feel him turn his head to stare at her. She keeps her eyes forward, focusing on the cabinet at the back of the room. “Even I can see that. And I'm happy for you, okay? But me and her, that’s not some kinda easy fix.” Darcy closes her eyes and takes a deep breath to prepare herself for what's coming. “I've tried so hard not to put any of you guys in the middle of this stuff, but with you and her, its just easier to keep my distance than forcing you to have to pick sides.”

“I'm already in the middle, Darcy,” Bruce sounds sad, even as he slides his arm around her back to shift her closer. “You just never gave me the choice of sides. You decided for me.”

“She makes you happy,” her next breath is shaky and her words wobble faintly. “And you her. There was no other choice, Bruce. Not one I could live with.”

“God, Darcy. Even as you claim to hate her you look out for her. You're more concerned about _her_ happiness than your own.” Darcy pulls away from Bruce, stepping away from the desk to put some space between them.

“And for all you’re some kind of genius, you’re still shit with people. I have _never_ , in my entire life, said that I hated her.” Darcy's voice is sharp and pained. Her eyes fill with tears and she swears, rubbing at them viciously with the heels of her hands. “She's _my sister_ , Bruce. All I ever wanted was for her to love me back. But what she did, I just can't...”

“Darcy...”

“You've known me a long time, right?” She interrupts, staring at him with red eyes and clenched fists, clearly fighting to stay in control. She’s so tense she’s practically vibrating in place.

“About 7 years.” He answers back carefully, unsure where she is leading him, and wary. 

“In all that time, you ever see me wear short sleeves, or something low cut? Anything remotely revealing? A swimsuit, even.” Bruce stares at her, confused, before actually thinking about what she's saying. He frowns.

“Not that I was actually looking, but no, nothing I can remember.” He shakes his head and watches as Darcy starts to pace again. “Always sleeves, no matter the temperature, and the few times you swam with us you wore that neoprene thing like what Tony wears when he surfs. Covered neck to knees.” Darcy stops, turning to face Bruce.

“You want to understand the way I am about Betty?” Before he can make a sound Darcy rips the bulky sweater she was wearing over her head, leaving her standing in front of Bruce in her jeans and a flimsy tank top. He makes a strangled sound as his eyes focus on the mass of scars covering the upper half of her left arm and trailing across her shoulder and chest. “I was 7 when this happened. Mom was arguing with the General and told Betty to watch me. I hadn't seen her in a while and had something to give her, so I followed when she walked away. I still remember the look on her face when she pushed me.” Darcy tries to keep her telling clinical, but her voice is shaky and she can feel the tears running down her cheeks. “I don't remember the car actually _hitting_ me, but I woke up in the hospital almost a week later, held together with wire and plaster.”

“Jesus, Darcy.” Bruce slides off the table and steps toward her, but she holds up a hand to stop him. “I didn't know. No one ever said.”

“Who would have?” Darcy tugs her sweater back on, hiding her scars from sight. “Betty's always acted like it never happened. My brothers know, and one of them _might_ have told Tony some of it, but they were all around during recovery. Clint knows from when I lived with him. Jane too, but not everything. Beyond that,” Darcy shrugs, wiping at her face with the sleeves of her sweater. “And now you know the worst of it.”

“That… actually explains a lot.” Bruce shakes his head, watching Darcy as she sits at one of the tables. “Especially if you've never dealt with it as a family. And all this time you kept it quiet from us while we... I’m sorry, Darcy.”

“She has you, and everyone, and her life is good now. Why would I ruin that for her?” Darcy shrugs, staring down at her hands to avoid the look on Bruce’s face. “But I have this, _will_ have this, the rest of my life and almost no one knows the truth about it. I should hate her, but I can't and it hurts.” She looks up at him again, sees him flinch slightly as a few more tears fall. “I know you want things to be peaceful, but I'm doing the best I can with the only option you gave me. _You_ were the ones who wouldn't let _me_ go.”

“Is-- is she the reason you pulled away from us back then?” Bruce stumbles over his words a little, unable to meet Darcy's eyes. He glances at her as she shakes her head.

“No. It wasn't that. Or not any more because of her than anyone else. It's complicated.”

“Well they tell me I'm kinda smart,” his voice is soft, a false lightness edging his tone. “Maybe I'll understand it?”

Darcy shakes her head again. “That was a bad time and I'd rather not throw myself into that pit of vipers right now, if it's all the same to you.”

A rattle of the door handle stalls whatever reply Bruce is about to make. Darcy scrubs roughly at her face with the sleeve of her sweater, but nothing is going to hide the fact she was crying from anyone who sees her. She glances at the clock and curses quietly as students start entering the classroom. Bruce appears at her side and grabs her bag, slinging it over his shoulder before she can snatch it back. He puts his free arm around her and navigates them out of the room while she keeps her head lowered, hiding her face behind her hair. She tugs him in the direction of the nearest washroom and he stops her outside the door.

“I'm sorry, Darce,” Bruce pulls her into the hug he wanted to give earlier but was waved back from. “I never even realized, and now you're just more upset and...”

“Just stop talking, Bruce” Darcy's voice is muffled against his chest as she cuts him off. She gives herself a moment to calm down and take in the situation before backing away. “You couldn't have known, and now I kinda regret telling you. Promise you won't let this change things?”

“The others should know,” Bruce shakes his head, only half listening to her request as he contemplates the reactions of their friends to the truth.

“No, Bruce,” Darcy snaps, tone sharp enough to get his attention to focus back on her. He blinks and she softens. “The last thing I want is for this to wreck things for anyone. Telling the others will end badly. And it's not your secret to tell.” The last part is Darcy's don't-mess-with-me voice, the one that makes even Tony think twice about crossing her. “Just don't push the issue, okay? Maybe if you back off about me and Betty, so will they.”

Bruce frowns, clearly unhappy about it, but agrees. Darcy reaches out for her bag and he reluctantly hands it over when she gestures to the washroom door.

“I have a class soon, so I gotta...” Darcy trails off, fidgeting as Bruce stares at her.

“Will you be okay?” Darcy nods at the concerned question and assures him he doesn't need to wait for her. She points out her next class is only a few doors away and he needs to be getting back to his labs on the other side of campus. He leaves reluctantly, looking back over his shoulder repeatedly until Darcy slips into the washroom.

“I'm always okay,” she whispers as she leans on the counter, staring in the mirror over the sink. Even her reflection looks like it doesn't believe her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“A couple of hours won't kill you.”

“M'tired,” the muffled whine reaches Jane from where Darcy is sprawled face down on her bed. “And you guys are gonna ditch me the second we get there anyway, so I’ll be on my own to avoid creeps all night.”

“You're just worried about dodging Bucky and Steve again,” Jane continues digging through Darcy's closet, occasionally picking something and throwing it at the bed.

“Also true,” Darcy turns her head to watch her roommate raid her closet for party outfits for them both as she kicks feebly at the growing pile of clothes covering her legs. “And you're _so_ cleaning all this up after.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jane waves off the comment as she studies the silver dress in her hands, one of the few Darcy owns that actually fits both of them. “Come on, just for a little while? I'll even not drink with you, if it'll make you feel better?”

Darcy sighs, rolling onto her back to stare at the ceiling. “It's been a long day, Jane. Not enough sleep, too many classes and digging up the past with Bruce. I'm beat and, frankly, I could probably use a few drinks.”

“I'd offer to sneak you something, but your brother would kill me when he found out. I can’t wait ‘til your birthday, cause after that _nothing_ anyone says is keeping me from getting you plastered.” When she doesn’t laugh at the teasing, Jane finally turns to look at Darcy, taking in the dark circles under her eyes that aren't quite hidden by her makeup. She sits on the edge of the bed and waits for Darcy to look at her. “Come for an hour, and if you haven’t changed your mind after that, we’ll come home for ice cream and cheesy movies.”

“Fine, but I’m warning you, I _will_ demand puppets and 80's hair.” Jane grins at her success and drops the blue dress she was holding onto Darcy's face. 

“Wear that,” she says as she stands up, snagging the silver dress from the pile and disappearing to get ready. She calls back through the door. “He'll be here in 20 minutes, so hurry up.” Darcy hauls herself up with a sigh and starts to get ready too.

Thor arrives, as promised, and it only takes a couple of minutes to be on their way. Darcy hangs back a little, giving the couple some space to themselves as they walk the few blocks to the house hosting the party.

They barely make it in the door before Thor has an arm up, waving at someone over the top of the crowd. Darcy catches a glimpse of Bruce as people shift around and taps Jane's shoulder, gesturing in the opposite direction when she turns to look. Jane frowns slightly but nods as Darcy shoots her a pleading look. Darcy disappears into the mass of people away from where their friends have gathered, searching the faces she passes for anyone familiar. She's just spotted a friend from class when she bumps into someone. The automatic apology freezes in her mouth as she looks up to see a smiling Bucky in front of her.

“Long time no see, Doll.” He leans close so she can hear him over the music and she wrinkles her nose at the smell of alcohol on his breath. A drunk Bucky is the last thing she wants to deal with at the moment. He pulls her into a tight hug and buries his face against her neck in a way that makes Darcy's heart pound. “Missed you.”

She shivers at the feel of his breath tickling her skin and the teasingly light drag of his lips against her throat. Her eyes close and for a second, one moment of weakness, she wishes he would keep going, do more, _never stop_. But this is _Bucky_ , and that's _not_ the kind of relationship they have. With more difficulty than she expects, Darcy lifts her hands to his chest to make him back up. She isn't quick enough and freezes as his mouth captures hers. She is too stunned by his actions to respond in any way, encouraging or discouraging. She can taste the liquor on his breath and gasps, remembering he’s  _drunk_. It hurts more than she wants to think about and jolts her into action. 

Bucky realizes something is wrong when she digs her nails into his chest. He backs away, his expression twisting with concern when he sees the look on her face. “Shit,” his lips barely move and if he wasn’t still so close she wouldn’t have known he said anything at all. “Darcy, I…” 

Darcy doesn’t wait to hear anymore; can’t stand to see the regret on his face. She pushes him away, dodges his hands as he tries to catch her and ignores him calling after her as she pushes into the crowd, ducking around people and out of the room more quickly than he can follow. Once she’s sure he isn’t behind her she stops, leaning back against a wall to catch her breath. She closes her eyes against the burning feeling building behind them.

“Darcy?” she flinches in surprise and opens her eyes to find Steve hovering over her. “You okay?” She blinks up at him, unable to form the words to tell him she’s fine. He stares at her for a long moment before sighing and pulling her in for a hug. Still shaken from her encounter with Bucky, Darcy doesn’t relax into it as she normally would. The feel of Steve’s hands rubbing soothingly at her back has the opposite effect, and makes her tense up even more, especially when the touch begins to feel like something more than just friendly comfort.

“Steve, what…” Darcy pulls back to look him and bites her bottom lip at the look in his eyes. He leans in toward her slowly, his intent clear and leaving her plenty of time to stop him. Even a few hours before she would have welcomed this from him, but she forces herself to turn away now. “No, Steve.”

“But I thought,” he hesitates, looking very unsure. “I saw you and Bucky…” Darcy cringes and pushes him away.

“What, so Bucky gets drunk and kisses me and that makes you think I’m fair game for the rest of you?” She gives an extra shove, harder than before, hard enough to push Steve back a few steps. “Fuck you, Steve.” And, just like with Bucky, she dodges away from reaching hands, escaping into the crowd as Steve calls after her.

Darcy finds herself pulled along with the rush into the kitchen, where people are passing shot glasses out. She hesitates for a few seconds before accepting what is offered and downing it. She winces, the alcohol burning her throat as it goes down. After a deep breath, Darcy pushes forward to where more shots are lined up on the table and grabs another. It burns less the second time, and less again the third and fourth. At least now she can blame her watering eyes on the booze. She reaches for a fifth shot when a familiar voice comes from next to her.

“Might want to slow down, unless you’re trying for a blackout.”

“A little oblivion might not be a bad thing right now.” Darcy  answers back calmly, downing her shot before turning to look at her new companion. “Hey, Johnny. How’s your night going?”

“Not bad. Was planning to make it a little better if you’re interested?” He flips his hand over and shows Darcy the joint hidden between his fingers. Darcy stares at him. They’ve done a few projects together and get along well, but this is something she wasn’t expecting from him. His left eyebrow lifts as he waits for her to consider it.

“Ah, fuck it,” Darcy mutters, dropping her empty glass on the counter. “I’m in.”

Johnny grins at her, snagging a couple of the red plastic cups of keg beer for them and leading her outside. There are a couple of couches in the backyard where a few other people she recognizes from classes are lounging. She drops onto the couch next to Johnny, the drinks from before starting to have an effect on her as she watches him take the first hit. The next 25 minutes or so passes in a haze of laughter and smoke. 

“Haven’t done this since I was 17,” Darcy's head rests against the back of the couch and she turns it to the side to look at Johnny, finding him already staring at her. He grins. Everything is a little fuzzy, but she is aware enough to see him leaning towards her. “Don't try it.”

“Was worth a shot,” Johnny backs off immediately, holding his hands up in front of him. “Probably for the best. The combined hotness of the two of us together is something the world just isn't ready for.” Darcy snorts at how much more ridiculous than normal he's acting. She didn't even know that was possible.

“Darcy?” She closes her eyes and sighs. Of course he'd be the one to find her out here.

“G'way, Steve,” her words slur together slightly, the combination of drink and smoke having her well in their grip. She's still angry about earlier.

He comes closer and studies her with narrowed eyes. He can't possibly miss the lingering smell of the joint from that distance. “Are you _high_?” He turns his angry focus to Johnny, lifting him off the couch by the front of his shirt. “Was this your idea?” Johnny struggles feebly against Steve's grip, unable to break away.

“Jesus, Steve. Let'im go.” Darcy kicks out at his leg from her spot on the couch and he drops Johnny as he jumps out of the way of her foot. Johnny scrambles back onto the couch, half hiding behind Darcy, staring wide-eyed at the unfolding drama. “This's none of your business. Go play your little macho games with someone else, cause I don’t want it.” She stares at him as she finishes off the last of her slightly warm beer. He frowns at her.

“Darcy, I'm taking you home so you can sober up.”

“W'makes you think I'd go anywhere with you after what you did?” Darcy tosses her empty cup at him and he jumps back to avoid it. “God, how did I waste so much time pining after you without knowing you were such an asshole. And you already have someone too.”

“Darce, you don't understand.” There is an urgency to his tone, almost pleading with her to listen. He takes a step towards her.

“I understand fine,” Darcy interrupts, grabbing the cup out of Johnny's hand and throwing that at Steve as well. Her aim is way off this time, and he doesn't have to move to avoid it. “This's some kinda sick game you and Bucky're playing. Well you can leave me the hell out of it.” She pushes herself to her feet and nearly falls over, only Steve's quick lunge saving her from meeting the ground face first. She gives a slightly hysterical laugh as he holds her up. “All those times I wished you'd put your hands on me and this is what I get?”

“It's not a game, Doll.” Darcy spins in the direction of Bucky's voice and nearly falls again. She swats at Steve's hands as he continues to hold her upright but he doesn't let go.

“Bullshit,” she snaps at Bucky, or at least in his direction. Her vision has grown more blurry over the course of the conversation. “You coulda had me for the asking, either of you, at any time. But you didn't want, and I don't need your _pity_ now.” She finally manages to break away from Steve's hold, weaving heavily towards Bucky. He catches her as she stumbles, opening his mouth to respond to her words, but she cuts him off. “And don't try to say it was anything else, cause you couldn't do it without being drunk first and regretted it right after.” She feels the oh so familiar burning behind her eyes start again and tries to blink it away before the tears actually come.

“Oh, Darce, _no_.” Bucky sighs as he pulls her close despite the way she flails her arms feebly at him. “I messed this up, but I promise it's not what you think. Please, let us take you home so we can fix it?” His voice is soft and, unlike Steve earlier, he keeps it a request and not a command. Darcy stops struggling and actually looks at him, fighting to keep focused as the wave of exhaustion she's been fighting hits her.

“Have to find Clint,” she mumbles, blinking heavily. "Not fair only three of you got in your shots at me today 'stead of all four.” She slumps forward and Bucky catches her with a curse. He swings her up into his arms and walks back towards the house, Steve close at his heels, and both ignoring the disappointed cries of the group who had gathered to watch the drama.

They track down their other friends quickly and let them know they're leaving, glossing over some of the more damning facts of what really happened while Bucky continues to carry Darcy, her head slumped against his chest and murmuring unintelligibly. The entire group seems prepared to leave with them, but Bucky manages to talk them out of it, convincing them Darcy would be more upset if she thought she'd ruined the party for all of them. They reluctantly agree to stay and only because Steve and Bucky intend to take her to the house all of the guys share off-campus instead of her dorm.

“I'm trusting you with her,” Thor rumbles with a hint of menace. “Don't make me regret it.” Clint follows it up with a warning of his own. Bucky interrupts when it looks like Jane is about to join in as well.

“We're just taking her home so she can sleep it off, that's all.” He shifts his hold on Darcy as she squirms a little. “And even though I only had one drink, I'll let Steve drive because he didn't have any.”

“And we'll leave the door to the suite open so you can check on her when you get home.” Steve adds, and that seems to calm everyone a bit. Darcy makes an unhappy noise against Bucky's chest and they take that as a sign they should be getting on their way.

It is only a few minutes drive to reach their house and soon Darcy is tucked away in Steve's bed with both men hovering close by in case she wakes. She tosses and turns but stays asleep, even as the others stop in to check on her through the night. Neither Steve nor Bucky get any rest, determined to make sure she's okay.

  
  



	4. Won’t get the best of me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suffering hangovers and hard truths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been forever, but between real life stuff and Darcy and the Boys not cooperating, it's been a rough chapter to get through. Decided to split things up so I could post sooner. As always, all mistakes are mine, all characters are not.

Darcy wakes up to the feeling of her heartbeat pounding inside her skull. She whimpers and curls into a tighter ball, reaching blindly for a pillow to bury her head under. She succeeds, holding it tightly to her with her right arm. She takes a slow breath and freezes. This isn't her bed. This bed smells like _Steve_. Her bed _definitely_ doesn't smell like Steve. She cracks open her eyes and slowly lifts the pillow, braced for the pain of light. It doesn't come. She removes the pillow completely to find it is actually very dim, the only light coming from the partially open door to the ensuite bathroom. The windows across the room, and now she's sure it is Steve's room, are covered not just by regular blinds, but the blackout curtains Darcy made Steve last summer when he started picking up graveyard shifts for extra cash and had trouble sleeping after. The room is silent except for the sounds she makes as she crawls out of the bed, still wearing her party clothes from the night before.

Once on her feet, Darcy navigates carefully through the mess of clothes and books on the floor, heading for the bathroom to takes care of the rather insistent pressure of her bladder. She raids the cabinet for something for her headache, finding a bottle of painkillers hiding behind a couple of toothbrushes and tubes of toothpaste. Darcy downs a couple of pills and grabs one of the tubes, picking cinnamon over mint, and uses her finger to take care of the worst of the furry feeling in her mouth. She keeps her eyes mostly closed against the light, her brain too fuzzy to process anything properly yet. When she's done, she rests on the edge of the tub, hunched over with her head between her knees, breathing deep and praying to anything that will listen for the pills to kick in quickly. After a few minutes, during which she struggles to piece together what she remembers from the previous night, she forces herself to stand and stumblingly makes her way back through the messy room toward the rest of the basement apartment in search of anyone else.

Darcy is barely into the main room when she freezes at the sight of a shirtless Bucky, in a pair of low-slung jeans, hunched over the kitchen counter with a lit cigarette hanging from his lips. She knows he’s a stress smoker, but she can’t even remember the last time she saw him actually light up. Steve, in his sweats and too tight t-shirt, leans on the counter a couple of feet away, next to the gurgling coffee machine. They haven't noticed her yet and are talking too quietly for her to hear, so she takes a moment to watch them as she steadies herself against one of the overloaded bookshelves that line the walls. Bucky straightens as Steve approaches and Steve plucks the cigarette from Bucky's mouth, dropping it into the sink. He reaches a hand out and grabs Bucky by the back of the neck, pulling him into a hug. Darcy stares, brain stalling at the sight of them wrapped around each other that way.

It's not as though she's never seen them hug before. The whole group is pretty close knit and willing to be touchy-feely with each other, especially the four who survived all those years in the orphanage together. They only had each other growing up and always said they were more brothers than friends and weren't afraid to show it. But this time it feels different, more intimate, like walking in on something she shouldn't see.

And just like that, the pieces click. Bucky's clothes and books all over Steve's room. The second toothbrush, shaped like a pinup girl, that Clint gave Bucky as a joke. His cinnamon toothpaste in the cabinet and cologne on the counter. The pillows that didn't _only_ smell like Steve. She can't tear her eyes away as Steve puts his hands on Bucky's face and says something she can't hear before leaning in to kiss him gently. With the current information, plus the way they've been behaving recently and how they've been living in each others pockets for as long as she's known them, suddenly Darcy feels like an idiot for not figuring it out sooner.

“Oh,” Darcy can't help the sound she makes as she stumbles into the wall, trying to back out of the room without being noticed. Both men turn at the sound, jumping away from each other as if burned, but it's too late, she's seen enough. More than enough. Darcy bites the inside of her bottom lip hard enough that she tastes blood. The pounding in her head intensifies as she clenches her jaw, fighting off the tears as the hurt and anger over all of the lies and manipulation join the already volatile mix of emotions that have been building in her over the past few days. When she opens her eyes, Bucky is in front of her, looking worried. He reaches for her and she pulls back violently, hissing in pain as her elbow slams into the wall. “Touch me and you'll pull back a bloody stump.” He pulls back like he's been slapped. Steve steps in then, putting himself between Darcy and Bucky with a frown.

“Darcy, sit down before you fall and hurt yourself.” Darcy flinches at his voice, not just the volume, or the sharpness of it cutting into her aching brain, but the ease at which he barks the order at her. Steve was never one to let anybody threaten a member of his family unanswered, and obviously right now he sees her as a threat. It makes her heart ache, how easily they tear at each other and, when it comes to facing the tough stuff, she's always been a runner. She stumbles away from them both, eyes blurry with unshed tears, and hits the ground hard as she misjudges her path and trips over the low table next to the couch.

Darcy swats at the large hands that quickly check her over for injuries before picking her up and laying her on the couch. She tries to get up, struggling against the hands that try to keep her still. “Darce, please.” Steve's voice is lower and softer this time, and the shift from order to request stops her. She keeps her eyes closed. It's easier not to lash out if she doesn't look at either of them. And at least now she can blame any tears on the fall if she needs too. “What do you need? Food? Something to drink? Pills? Just don't say hair of the dog, 'cause that won't happen.”

“Just wanna go home,” Darcy hates how weak her voice sounds to her own ears. She rolls to her stomach so she can hide her face against the couch. The need to actually breathe means only half her face is against the cushions, the other half hidden by a curtain of her hair.

“We need to talk about this,” Steve insists gently as he brushes her hair back, determined to have this out. His fingers trace lightly across her face, following the path of the tears and lingering against her lips. Darcy grits her teeth and pulls her head away as much as she can, surprised at how difficult it is, even after everything that's happened.

“Nothing to talk about. Just get someone to take me home and we can pretend this week never happened.” He stops touching her but doesn't move away, keeping her trapped against the couch.

“No, Doll. Pretty sure that's the kind of thinking that got us into this mess, pretending things weren't happening.” Bucky sits on the floor in front of the couch and leans his head back, close to where her hand rests but not actually touching her. For all his issues of invading personal space, he's always been good about accepting the word no, at least when it comes to the physical. He may force the conversation to drag on until they are all raw and bloody, but he won't touch her again until she says it's okay. “Steve's right. We do need to talk about it, but you're still not okay from last night. Get some more rest and we'll deal with it later.”

His voice is quiet, but confident that she will go along with his suggestion, and Darcy is suddenly tired, so very tired, of being the one always expected to keep the peace. To sacrifice what she thinks and feels for the harmony of the group. To ignore her own needs and wants for their happiness. Her voice is sharp, painful to her own ears when she speaks again.

“Who won?”

“What are you talking about?” Darcy opens her eyes at Steve's wary question and sees Bucky sit up and turn to face her, jaw clenched like he knows what's coming.

“The game, or bet; whatever it was you two have been playing. Who won?” She stops hiding her face as she repeats the question. She knows what she’s doing will end badly, but she’s too emotionally compromised at the moment to stop herself.

“Told you last night it wasn't a game.” Bucky shifts over on the floor so he is right in front of her face. “Darcy, don't do this now. Give us a chance to explain when you're feeling better.”

“No. You two think we need to talk about it, so talk. Explain what else it could have been, you treating me like a toy to be played with and tossed aside?” This time Steve and Bucky are the ones to flinch.

“No,” Steve puts a hand on her arm and Darcy yanks it away, turning her back to them and curling into a ball against the back of the couch. Steve slides down onto the floor next to Bucky. “It wasn't like that.”

“Feels like it,” is her muffled reply. Steve's words are barely above a whisper but Darcy hears his voice crack the way it always does when he's upset. Even after everything, it's still a struggle for her to not just back down from this, to try to soothe the tension, but it's all just been too much this time. “Hope it was worth it, knowing that I'll never really be able to trust you again now.”

“That is the l-last thing I w-wanted to happen, Darce.” Bucky drops his head to the couch and takes a deep breath to steady himself. The slightest hint of a stutter, something he’d gotten rid of as a child, is the biggest sign of just how much this is messing with him. “I know I screwed this up, but if you’d just let me explain.”

“And why would I believe you, when you've been lying and manipulating me all this time?” And Darcy’s chest aches. It hurts her as much to say it as it does for them to hear it. They’ve been friends a long time. More than friends, really. Despite the occasional ups and downs, the group as a whole has become more family to each other than anything, and certainly a better family than many of them could claim of their actual blood relatives. It’s how they all know each others’ triggers, and the best ways to avoid them, but also the worst ways to strike out at each other for maximum damage. “Looks to me like you’ll both make fine Generals some day.” She knows how bad that will go over, coming from her, and the pained sounds from both men let her know she hit her mark. She angles her face against the back of the couch to hide the fresh tears.

“You don't have the whole story,” Bucky’s strangled, half-gasp, once more telling her she doesn’t understand instead of trying to explain is what finally makes her snap.

“Then _tell me_ the fucking story!” Darcy yells, bringing her arms up to wrap around her head as it throbs. It's too much. The dam breaks and she starts sobbing. There are hands on her again, too big to be Bucky's, trying to be soothing, but she struggles against them. She hears the shaky sigh moments before Steve moves, stretching out on the couch behind her and pulling her back against his chest.

“Steve, stop,” Bucky tugs on Steve's arm, trying to get him to back off, even as Darcy stops fighting him. “She doesn’t want...”

“She can hate me for it later, but right now she needs this more than me respecting her personal space.” Steve tightens his arms, shifting to curl around her as much as possible. He spends the next few minutes whispering things she only half understands, attempting to soothe her as she cries. It takes awhile for the sobbing to trail off and her breathing to even out enough for her to make words.

“Didn't need to lie,” Darcy's voice is a raspy whisper, raw and exhausted from her emotional outburst and catching on her still ragged breathing. “Wouldn't have changed anything. Woulda still loved you.” She can feel sleep pulling at her and she slumps against Steve’s chest, too wiped out to do anything else.

“Shh, Darce, breathe.” Steve grasps her wrist gently and pulls her arm away from her head into a more comfortable position against her body. His own voice is a shaky whisper too. “We didn't mean for things to happen this way. No one was supposed to get hurt. Please, give us a chance to fix this.”

“Why couldn’ you jus’ keep ‘noring m’feelings for you?” Darcy mumbles, words slurring together as exhaustion claims her. She’s asleep before either man can respond.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Darcy wakes with a groan, not opening her eyes as she slowly attempts to push herself off the couch. She hears movement and Bucky speaks from right in front of her.

“What do you need?” His voice is low, just above a whisper, and hesitant like he is afraid of startling her.

“Purse,” she mumbles, still not fully awake. Her headache has faded away to almost nothing. Darcy hears Bucky moving around the room and after a few moments her purse is placed in her hand. She pulls out her phone and lifts it to her face, cracking one eye to peer at the screen as she pulls up Thor’s number.

“Please don’t?” Bucky whispers. “I know I messed everything up, and I'm sorry, but I'll explain everything, answer every question you have, if you're willing to listen. And whatever you decide to do after that, I won’t fight. Please, Darce?” She opens her eyes and looks at him. He is clearly exhausted, eyes red-rimmed like he's been crying and paler than normal so the dark circles beneath his eyes stand out harshly. He still hasn't made any attempt to touch her. Darcy puts her phone back in her purse and moves it away. Bucky stills as she reaches out to touch his cheek, her fingers trailing over stubble-roughened skin. He leans into the contact with an expression of such relief, it makes her eyes burn and heart ache. She strokes her thumb against the dark smudge beneath his left eye. “Please stay?”

Darcy bites her bottom lip, feeling the sting where she drew blood earlier. She closes her eyes, and after a long moment, nods her consent. Bucky collapses forward, burying his face against her stomach with a shaky sigh. She strokes the back of his neck before slipping her fingers into his messy hair, scratching her nails lightly across his scalp. He shivers at the attention, and for a moment it’s like everything is normal between them.

“When I mentioned Steve was with someone and you pretended to not know about it, you were lying to me.” Darcy opens her eyes at the sound of more movement in the room and watches Steve places a cup of coffee and a plate of cinnamon toast on the table next to her before sitting on the floor beside Bucky.

“Wasn't a lie, it just wasn't exactly the truth.” Bucky doesn’t lift his head, so his reply is muffled. Steve shakes his head.

“You didn’t tell me that part.”

“A lie by omission is still a lie, Bucky.” Darcy removes her hand from his hair and wriggles herself upright, legs curled beneath her, when he lifts his head to look at her. She takes the mug when Steve passes it to her, sipping carefully at the hot liquid before speaking again. “But worse than that, you spent the better part of a week throwing us at each other, when you two are already together. You _know_ my issues around lying and cheating in relationships. You know how the General manipulated my parents. Why would you _ever_ think that I would be okay with you trying to pull the same kinda thing with me?” Again, they both flinch at the comparison.

“It wasn't like that,” Bucky shifts uncomfortably as he answers back. “And it makes me sick that something I did gives you any reason to compare me to him, but I swear, that wasn't what I was trying to do.” He pauses, glancing briefly at Steve, waiting for him to nod before continuing. “I was trying to ease you into the idea of _us_. Of being with _both_ of us. Because somewhere along the way we realized that we both want you, and have for longer than either of us is entirely comfortable admitting to.”

Unlike earlier, and with the aid of coffee prepared just the way she likes it, Darcy is clear-headed enough to wrangle her mixed emotions so she thinks about his words instead of lashing out first. It doesn't make her words any less cutting when she does finally respond. “So all that joking about threesomes the other day was you _testing_ me?”

Bucky hesitates for a moment, then nods. “I guess it does come across that way, looking back on it.”

“So, instead of actually _talking_ to me, you two decided mind games were the way to go. You never saw the flaw in this plan? The part where I was _avoiding you_ didn't give away that it was a bad idea?” Darcy’s hands clench around her mug and she takes a deep breath to calm herself. They’re finally giving her straight answers, and if she loses her cool now they might stop. Her voice shakes faintly as she continues. “And then your solution was to get drunk and kiss me, like that would fix everything?”

“Okay, again, wasn't drunk,” Bucky frowns, shifting into a more comfortable position but keeping a careful distance away from Steve as he does. If Darcy hadn’t seen them earlier, she would have no clue about them being together. Nothing in their current behaviour suggests they are anything more than friends, and it bothers her that they are still hiding it, even though she already knows.

“I could _taste_ the alcohol on you.” Darcy snaps, but can’t help the way her cheeks flush as she remembers the feel of his arms around her, his lips on her skin, that kiss, and how even then a small part of her hated having to push him away.

“One drink,” Bucky says, eyes closed and fists clenched. “Just before I ran into you, I had a shot of vodka for courage, that's all.” He sighs, tilting his head up to look directly at Darcy. “There was a plan. I was supposed to pull you aside, tell you everything, and let you make all the decisions, but dammit, Doll, I _missed_ you and I skipped ahead. And then you ran.”

“Which is when I found you,” Steve adds, head down and voice low. “I assumed things had gone well because I saw the kiss and ultimately made things worse when you, rightly, misunderstood my actions.” He shakes his head and looks over at Bucky. “By the time we figured out what went wrong, you were in the backyard with those...” He trails off, looking like he's tasting something foul.

“You mean my  _friends_?” There is a warning edge to Darcy's voice that has both men turning to look at her. She drinks the last of her coffee and puts the mug down, hoping to preemptively counter the urge to throw it at someone.

“I don't like 'em.” Steve is wearing his stubborn face, the one he gets when the amount of arguing it would take to convince him he’s wrong usually isn’t worth the effort. Bucky shakes his head.

“Then it's a good thing you don't actually get a say in who I can be friends with, isn't it?” Darcy mutters, dropping her head back and rubbing at her eyes. She knows he's like this because he's concerned for her, but it's frustrating when his behaviour skews into overprotective mode and ignores that she can take care of herself. It doesn't happen often, but on those rare occasions it takes a blunt, and sometimes painful, set-down to remind him.

“Come on, they're obviously a bad influence, Darce.” Steve ignores Bucky's hand gestures and hissed orders, attempts to make him stop talking. He keeps his attention locked on Darcy and she fights the urge to squirm. Her crush on him picks the worst times to flare up, and being the focus of that kind of intensity is giving her thoughts she definitely shouldn't be having while they're still sort of fighting, and with both of them watching her.

“Right, ‘cause I can’t make decisions for myself,” Darcy rolls her eyes, falling back on sarcasm to keep her mind focused on the here and now.

“I didn’t say that,” Steve softens, hunching forward and rubbing at the back of his neck. “But you were clean for 3 years before last night with them.”

“Yeah, and me _choosing_ to change that had _nothing_ to do with _you two_. Or Thor _and_ Bruce dragging up family bullshit. Or being overworked and overtired and just having a shitty week overall. Excuse me for needing to take the edge off for one night.” Her control wavers for just a moment and the sarcastic mask slips, letting out more truth than she intended.

“Darcy,” Bucky is on the couch beside her in seconds, reaching out to comfort. He hesitates for a moment before putting his hand on her knee. When she doesn’t pull away, he slides his hand lower, stroking her ankle with his thumb.

“And you have some nerve. It’s not as if you guys are boy scouts.” Bucky stills and Steve lifts his head at her low drawl. “I’ve heard stories. Hell, I was _there_ for the Rubber Duck Incident.” For the first time in nearly two days, Darcy feels the beginnings of a real smile forming as she watches both of them turn bright red. “So don’t even try to tell me you never did anything you weren’t supposed to, like drink before you were legal or smoke,” she shoots a look at Bucky and glances toward the kitchen. Steve looks ready to protest and Darcy points a finger accusingly at him. “ _You_ bought weed from Remy at least twice while I was dating him, so don’t even.”

“Never told me you got it from _him_.” Bucky shoots a glare at Steve.

“It was before we found out about them,” Steve holds his hands up defensively and Darcy rolls her eyes.

“Not the point, boys,” she flexes her ankle, sliding it away from Bucky. “My life, my choices. You don’t get to decide stuff for me because you don’t like what I do. Bucky learned that the hard way, if you remember.” Darcy feels him flinch next to her and bites her lip again. Unlike earlier, she didn't _mean_ to poke at that old wound. The slip refocuses her attention.

“And whether you approve of my other friends isn’t what we’re talking about, so either get back on topic or I’m going home now.” There is silence. Darcy shifts like she's about to get up from the couch and both men protest. “Explain. Start with why you've been lying to everyone about dating.”

“We’re not. Not really. It’s complicated.” Darcy swings her feet to the floor at Bucky's words and Steve rolls up to his knees, dropping his hands to the couch beside her legs. He doesn't touch her but effectively blocks her from standing unless she pushes him out of the way, leaving no room for her to run. “Wait. We’re not in a relationship, not the way you’re thinking of it, but we are together.”

“How long?” She watches Steve and Bucky exchange one of their looks, the kind where they’re having whole discussions without saying anything out loud, and another piece of the puzzle in Darcy's head clicks into place.

“Years,” Steve is the one to finally answer as he stares down at his hands. “Since before you met any of us.”

Darcy closes her eyes as she considers just how long they're talking about. “You’ve both dated others since I’ve known you. God, Bucky, you were with Tasha for _years_.”

“S’why I said it’s complicated.” She feels a bump on her shoulder and turns her head to see Bucky resting his forehead against her. “Just because we’re together doesn’t mean we don’t fall for other people sometimes.”

“And before you say it, there’s no cheating involved.” Steve interrupts. Darcy looks back to find him watching her closely. It hits her suddenly, the feeling of being studied like something under one of the lab microscopes, and she leans back. The shift makes Bucky sit up straight again. “We do have rules.”

“It's an off and on thing. We aren’t together if there’s someone else in the picture.” Bucky shifts the way he sits, giving Darcy more space as she slumps into the back of the couch. “And we step aside for each other whenever it comes up, but if we happen to be single at the same time, we just kinda fall back into it.”

“So it’s just a convenience thing.” Darcy sums up the conversation as she stares at the ceiling.

“No, Darce, it’s not.” Steve shifts his hands slightly so they are actually touching her. She looks down at his thumbs stroking the bare skin along the hemline of her dress before meeting his eyes. “The feelings are real. And I think it’s safe to say that whether it’s just as friends, or as something more, we’re always going to be in each others lives. But we’re young, and neither of us is ready to just settle down.” He closes his eyes and sighs. “And it sounds really bad to say _that,_ considering...”

“No, I understand. I think,” Darcy interrupts what looks like it could become an awkward ramble as she puts her hands on his to still the distracting movement. “I mean, not why you've been _hiding_ it or anything. That I don't get. But it just leaves me wondering what you’re expecting from me.”

“Just you, Darce. Whatever you're willing to give, for as long as you'll give it.” Bucky trails his fingers down her arm, stopping when his hand covers hers where she has Steve's pinned. “I wasn't kidding about you making all the decisions. Say no and we'll never mention it again. And if you only want one of us, or if you're interested in both but not together, whatever it is, whatever you want, just tell us and we can figure it out.”

“Why now?” Darcy stares at all of their hands together, desperately trying to ignore how good it feels. There's still too much that needs to be figured out between them.

Bucky shrugs. "I saw the way you've been looking at Steve lately and remembered the comment you made to Jane and, well, here we are.”

“Hate to point out the embarrassingly obvious, but I've always looked at Steve like that. At both of you. Never mattered to you before.” Darcy avoids looking at either of them as she slides her hand away. “None of you ever looked at me twice.”

“You were better at hiding it than you thought, Darce, 'cause it took us a long time to notice. And believe me, we were both looking. But neither of us would have touched you back then.” Darcy shoves Steve away hard and he winces, more at his own bad word choice than from hitting the table. “ _Shit_. That's not what... I didn't…”

Bucky wraps both arms around Darcy as she attempts to stand, pulling her into his lap to keep her from bolting. “He means 'cause you were too young, Doll.” She doesn't struggle, just turns to hide her face as she slumps against his chest. “Even if either of us were single then, at your age, it wouldn't have been right.”

“Couple of years difference is nothing,” is the muffled reply. Bucky rubs her lower back with his left hand as Steve hauls himself into the corner of the couch where Darcy was.

“Yes and no. The difference between 15 and 18 is a lot bigger than between 20 and 23.” Steve answers back, whispering an apology as he leans his forehead against her left shoulder blade. They stay curled together like that for a moment before Bucky breaks the silence.

“And I may have done some shitty things in my time, but unlike some people, taking advantage of someone underage will never be part of that list.” Darcy straightens, dislodging Steve as she pushes at Bucky.

“He never…” she stops herself abruptly and shakes her head. “You know what? No. You're already on shaky ground with me, do not push your luck. Leave Remy out of this.”

“We know what we're asking isn't easy, Darce,” Steve says, keeping his voice soft as he shoots a glare at Bucky over her shoulder. “And we've made a hell of a mess of all this, but the three of us, we could be something amazing. No pressure, no rush, but please, just think about it? Can you at least agree to that?” There is a long moment of silence before Darcy answers quietly.

“Yeah, I can do that. But I don't... I can't be around you right now. Not for a little while. So I'm going to go upstairs and see if Clint will drive me home.” Bucky pauses before letting her go. Darcy keeps her head down as she grabs her purse and heads for the door connecting the basement apartment to the rest of the house. She picks up her shoes and hesitates at the door, peeking back at the couch where both men are hunched over and silent. She shakes her head and closes the door behind her as she goes.


	5. Not a moment too soon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friendly interventions and choices made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the last chapter. Took forever, but this part of the story is done. Thanks to everyone for following along, I hope it wasn't too terrible an experience. The feedback was much appreciated. So, as always, all mistakes are mine, all characters are not.

 

“So, how much longer you think we'll be stuck with mopey Darcy? She's not much fun.” Darcy looks up from her books with a frown. Across the table, Clint drops his pen and lifts his arms over his head. He winces as his spine pops and cracks as he stretches out. Beside him, Natasha rolls her eyes and keeps working.

“You don't like it, stop following me around like a creepy stalker,” Darcy tosses a balled up scrap of paper at him, fighting a laugh as he doesn't dodge quickly enough and it bounces off his head. She wasn't expecting the company, hidden away in one of the library's private study rooms to work on homework, yet these two still found her anyway. “Otherwise, shut up.”

“Okay, mopey  _and_ bitchy. Always a great combo.” Natasha doesn't even look as she reaches over and slaps the back of his head. Darcy does laugh at that.

“Thank you, Tasha.” The older woman winks at her before focusing her attention back on her work. Clint sticks his tongue out at Natasha as he rubs the back of his head. She ignores him and his attention shifts back to Darcy.

“No, come on. You've been pretty miserable since I drove you home the day after the party. What the hell did Steve and Bucky do to mess you up so bad? I mean, come on, it's not like you walked in on them having sex or something.” Clint stops mid-eye-roll and bolts upright in his chair as Darcy pales, staring at him in wide-eyed shock. “Oh,  _shit_ , you caught them before they could talk to you. Please, tell me you didn't just run out on them.”

“You knew?” Her voice shakes as her eyes flick accusingly between her friends. “Both of you?” Clint opens and closes his mouth a few times, desperately searching for words. He looks over to Natasha for help and finally she breaks the silence.

“Darcy, I thought you knew.” The way Natasha watches her makes Darcy fidget and look away. She doesn't want sympathy, she wants answers. It's been over three weeks since the party and while the volatile tangle of emotions has faded, some of the hurt still lingers. “Those two have been an open secret for years.”

“Open secret?” Darcy rests her elbows on the table and drops her head, tangling her fingers in her hair. She hears a chair scrape against the floor and Clint is next to her, hand squeezing her shoulder carefully.

“We've all shared living spaces over the years, Darce. Between thin walls and unlocked doors, it wasn't hard to figure out, even with them trying to hide it.” Clint keeps his voice low and steady in an effort to keep her calm, as always, hyper-aware of what is happening with the people around him. His hand moves from her shoulder to her back, stroking lightly. “I've pretty much known since I was twelve, and if they didn't know before, everyone else figured it out once we moved into this house.”

“Everyone?” Darcy chokes on the word, lifting her head to stare at him. “Oh god, were you  _all_ in on their plan? Tell me you weren't helping them with this.”

“No, not helping, but aware. They were hardly subtle in their pursuit.” Darcy flinches at Natasha's words, taking it as criticism of her observational skills. And, of course, Natasha realizes the effect immediately. “Darcy, that wasn't a shot at you. You didn't know about them, so you couldn't have realized what they were up to.”

“And instead of telling me, all of you just watched this little drama play out without saying a word.”

“This was between the three of you. You're all adults, and you can make your own choices without us interfering.” Clint hooks his feet around the legs of Darcy's chair, dragging her closer. He shifts his arm over her shoulder and she leans into the hug without hesitation. “But they've never actually told us what their deal is, and what kind of friends would we be to take that choice away from them? So, none of us were gonna say anything about what they were up to. Not unless they actually went through with it.” He pauses. “Or were about to screw things up beyond repair.”

“And that’s why everyone kept checking on me?” Darcy feels Clint nod against her hair.

“Bucky told me,” Natasha admits, shrugging when the others turn to stare at her. “What? We were still together then and when I asked him, he was honest about it.”

“He told you, just like that?” Clint shakes his head, his doubt about the statement obvious in his tone.

“I'm persuasive,” Natasha answers back easily, watching Clint. But then she does something Darcy has only witnessed a couple of times in all the years they've known each other. Natasha hesitates. “And I may have mentioned being curious.”

“You were with  _both_  of them," Darcy trails off slowly, closing her eyes. She rubs her hands over her face.

“For a little while,” Natasha answers carefully, never taking her eyes off Clint. He remains blank, giving away nothing of what he is thinking about her revelation. “It was a pleasant experience, and I don't regret a second of it, but in the long run, it wasn't for me.”

Darcy sighs, slumping back into her chair as she watches her friends carefully. She knows Clint well enough to guess what his reaction will be, but Natasha’s doubt is making her twitchy. “Is that why you and Bucky broke up?”

“Honestly? It probably kept us together longer.” Natasha finally drags her eyes away from staring at Clint to focus on Darcy. “We were already fading by then. But they were good about it when I decided to end things.” She shrugs. “And we’re obviously still close.”

Clint makes that overly thoughtful sound, the one that anyone who know knows him recognizes as a warning that something unfortunate is about to come out of his mouth. "You know, now all you need is Bruce and you've got the complete set of four?"

“Oh, Clint, no.” Darcy shakes her head as Natasha shoots him a look that promises revenge.

“Oh, come on. I'm just  _teasing_.” He laughs and rolls his eyes, meeting Natasha's look unflinchingly. “Where's the trust? You have history? Well, so do I. We both knew that when we started this. It doesn't matter who it  _used_ to be, because it's us  _now_ , and that's what's important.”

Natasha pushes away from the table and walks around to stand in front of Clint. For a long moment they just stare silently at each other until Natasha leans down to kiss him. Darcy averts her eyes when Clint pulls Natasha into his lap, laughing quietly to herself. Clint didn't let her down. Eventually, the couple come up for air.

“That was a very mature attitude from you.” Natasha teases, smirking at Clint as she returns to her chair.

“No need to sound so surprised.” He grins back, watching as she starts putting her books away. “I've known some pretty amazing women, who've put in a lot of effort, to keep me from being a complete asshole.” He looks over at Darcy and she smiles and rolls her eyes at him. “Only thing I’m wondering is why you didn't talk to Darcy about them before now.”

“Same reason we don't actually talk about Bucky and Steve being a thing; not our place to reveal that  _for_ them.” Natasha shrugs. “Unless Darcy asked, it wouldn’t have been right for me to offer anything. Sorry,” she directs the last comment at Darcy.

Darcy waves off the apology. “Nah, I actually get that. I remember what it felt like when Jane accidentally slipped to Thor about Rachel before we’d told anyone. So as much as this sucks for me right now, I’m glad you were thinking about them.”

“To be fair, I did warn both of them, together and separately, to be careful how they proceeded with you.” Natasha finishes loading her bag and rechecks that all of the zippers are closed.

“They obviously didn't listen,” Clint mutters and Natasha shakes her head at him. She glances at the clock and stands.

“I have class now, but if you’ll take some advice from someone who’s been there?” Natasha puts both hands on the table and leans forward, making sure that Darcy is focused on her. “If there’s even a small part of you considering saying yes to them, you should go for it. Even if it doesn't last, or you realize it's not what you want in the end, at least you'll know for sure and you won't spend your life looking back and wondering.” She takes a breath and stands up, hooking her backpack over her shoulders and settling the weight as comfortably as possible. “And despite their missteps with this, they're good guys and they’ll treat you right no matter how it turns out.”

“Thanks, Tasha,” Darcy says as Natasha heads for the door, giving a small nod before she goes. “Know what?” Darcy turns her head to looks at Clint, still sitting next to her, as the door shuts with a soft click. “I love your girlfriend.”

“You can't have her. She already picked me,” Clint teases, turning to her with a grin. They're alone now, just two best friends in an isolated room together, so the everyday masks drop. “Plus, you maybe have two of your own already. Don’t get greedy.”

Darcy pokes at Clint’s side, making him laugh as he squirms away. “Well, apparently, she’s not opposed to  _sharing_.”

“Do  _not_ put that idea in my brain,” Clint covers his ears and shakes his head as Darcy laughs at him. “You stay out of my fantasies, ‘cause that makes me feel dirty, and not in the good way.”

“Aww, you're a good man, Clint Barton.” Darcy tells him honestly, grinning as she tugs his right arm away, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek.

He shrugs away the praise and rolls his eyes, but can't hide the faint pink tinge colouring his cheeks. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t tell anyone or you'll ruin my reputation.”

“Do you even know how adorkable it is that I can still make you blush?”

“Shush, you.” Darcy giggles as he makes exaggeratedly annoyed faces at her continued teasing. She takes a deep breath, calming herself for the serious talk she needs to have with him.

“You know I love you, right?” Clint reaches over without a word and pulls Darcy into his lap at the soft question. She curls into the hug, feeling his arms tighten around her as he nods. “I need you to tell me what to do, Clint.”

“I've never decided anything for you, and I’m not starting with this, Darce,” he shakes his head, keeping his voice just as quiet. “But I will say I agree with Tasha. Do you think you can walk away without regrets?”

“Probably not,” Darcy gives a shaky sigh, hiding her face against Clint's shoulder. He brings one hand up to the back of her head, running his fingers through her hair carefully. “But I have a lot of regrets already; what's one more added to the list?”

“You're the only one who can decide if it's a regret you can live with.” Clint shifts beneath her and lightly tugs her hair a couple of times, making her lift her head and look at him. “You know we're with you, whatever you decide. As long as you're happy. I just don't get why you're hesitating like this. You've wanted them both for years and they're not making you choose between them. This is about more than their methods, so what's really holding you back?”

Darcy bites her lip as she watches Clint watch her. They made a promise to each other years ago, back when he offered to let her move in with him, that they wouldn't lie to each other. Darcy takes a deep breath, determined not to break that promise over something like this. Not when she's admitted far worse things to him before. “What if it goes bad and wrecks everything?”

“Lots of awkwardness for you three, and mocking from the rest of us,” Clint drawls, lips twitching up at the corners. “At least until you pull your heads out of your asses and remember that you were friends first, and your lives are better with each other in them.” He shrugs at Darcy's frown over his light reaction. “After everything you've already been through, you think anything could ever  _really_  come between you?"

“They don’t know about...” Darcy trails off, rubbing at her left arm. Clint twists and leans forward, careful not to jostle her too much as he kisses her left shoulder.

“You know none of us had it easy growing up. We've all got our scars, Darce.” He sighs as he pulls back to look her in the face again. Now he's the one being completely serious. “I've said all along, you can trust them with whatever you've got to tell. So if that's really all that's holding you back, maybe your decision is already made?”

Darcy slumps against Clint again, voice muffled when she finally speaks. “I need to think.”

“No rush. Take as much time as you need to be sure,” Clint wraps his arms around her again and squeezes until she squeaks a protest and he smiles down at her. “Just remember that you don't have to cut all of us out until then.” Darcy nods against his chest and they sit in comfortable silence for a little while. Eventually, Clint moves, breaking their private moment. " _Sorry_ , but if I don't leave soon, I'll be late for practice." With a quietly amused snort, Darcy stands and stretches, watching as Clint does the same.  


“You know you owe me more cuddle time later, right?”

“Any time,” Clint exaggerates a smarmy tone and shoots a fake leer at Darcy. She laughs, as intended, but reaches back and grabs her eraser off the table and throws it at him. He dodges easily and laughs. “Are you sure you won’t come to the game tonight? We’ll all be on the field, so you don’t have to worry about dodging us to hang out with the girls.”

“Nah,” Darcy winces watching Clint stuffs his things into his bag carelessly, everything mashed together into a crumpled mess that he forcefully shoves down to get the zipper closed. “Last thing I need right now is them hovering while I'm figuring things out.”

“If you change your mind --”

“I'll call.” Clint stares at her for a long moment and she shoos him away. “I'll be fine. Go, before you get me in trouble with your coach.” He leans over to kiss her cheek and takes off with a wave. With a sigh, Darcy returns to her own chair and stares blankly at the table in front of her, an idea taking shape in her head.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Darcy sits in the dark room, waiting. Curled up in the chair, with her legs pulled to her chest and arms wrapped around her knees, she knows this is probably a bad idea, but she couldn't help herself.

The thought came to her while watching the Avengers, Culver’s championship lacrosse team, destroying the visiting Marauders. Despite everything that's happened, she's missed her friends, and the opportunity to see them without actually having to face them changed her mind about going to the game. She avoided their usual seats, sitting alone at the opposite side of the stands where no one would think to look for her, and as the game progressed, the thought grew into a plan. That plan lead her here, to Steve and Bucky's place, where her spare key grants her access. Now she waits for them to come home, determined to figure their personal drama out tonight.

Darcy doesn't move as she hears the sound of keys and voices at the outer door. Steve enters first, looking back over his shoulder as he tugs at the knot around his neck. Bucky follows close behind, his own tie already removed and hanging loose in his right hand as his left works the top buttons of his shirt undone. Darcy stops breathing at the sight. She remembers, too late, how the mandatory dress code for the players lead to jokes about game days and suit porn.

It's Bucky who notices her first.

“Darcy?” Steve stops mid-word and turns to look, the shock and concern warring in his expression a mirror of Bucky's. Both men stand frozen in place at the sight of her, waiting for them in the dark, staring. “Darce, what happened? What's wrong?”

“What isn't?” she says, just barely loud enough for them to hear. She still hasn't moved. Steve exchanges a look with Bucky before walking over to the chair Darcy occupies. He crouches in front of her, resting his hands on the cushion beside her feet, her eyes following his every move. Across the room, Bucky closes the door and Darcy twitches at the sound of the lock clicking into place. “Why this way? Why not like with Tasha?” She sees the question forming before Steve opens his mouth. “We talked this morning. Clint was there too.”

“You told them,” Bucky’s voice is quiet and completely devoid of emotion. Darcy looks away from Steve to see Bucky stopped a few feet away, beside the couch. He makes no move to come closer and even Steve isn’t looking directly at her anymore.

“No, they already knew.” Darcy closes her eyes and shakes her head. She rests her forehead on her knees as she gives a pained laugh. “Apparently, I'm the only one who  _didn't_. Thin walls and unlocked doors, according to Clint.” She tries to tune out the sounds of distress and disbelief by speaking over them. “I hope you appreciate just how loyal your friends are, because they've been keeping your secret for years, waiting for you to tell them the truth.”

Silence. Darcy doesn't lift her head when she feels the cushion beneath her shift and Steve's hands wrap around her ankles. She bites her lip, but keeps still when he leans forward and rests his forehead against her arms.

“If she told you about it, do I really need to explain why it was different with Tasha?” Steve keeps his voice low, thumbs circling lightly against the bare skin above her socks. Darcy shakes her head without lifting it, not ready to risk looking at either of them yet. “You came here tonight for a reason, Darce. Will you tell us why?”

“Missed you.” The words come more easily than she expects, and the slight squeeze of Steve's hands on her she takes as reassurance that it was the right way to start. “But there's so much I just don't understand.”

“If you're talking about how badly we messed up, I'm not sure we understand it either.” Darcy does look up at that comment, glad to hear a hint of humour, returning to Bucky's voice. The toneless reaction from before was worrying in more ways than one. But he still hasn't moved any closer, and Darcy realizes why as he lets Steve take the lead for them in the conversation. Bucky blames himself for the plan and is holding himself back to avoid making things worse.

“We missed you too, Darce. But we all know that alone isn't enough to bring you back here after what happened. Something changed.” Steve is doing that close study thing again, like if he looks hard enough he'll be able to figure out what's going on inside her head. Darcy unfolds her arms and reaches out to place her right hand on his chest. She doesn't apply much pressure, only enough for him to know she wants some space. Steve releases her ankles and leans back, but remains in front of the chair, blocking her way. With a sigh, Darcy unfolds, twisting herself sideways to slide over the armrest and stand without having to touch him again.

Once on her feet, she chooses her trajectory carefully, putting distance between herself and the guys without moving closer to either of the exit doors. With them watching as close as they are, it's impossible that they'll misinterpret her actions.  _She_ _isn't running_. The room is quiet enough for Darcy to hear the shaky breaths of relief from them both. When she looks, Steve is steadying himself against her vacant chair and Bucky perches on the edge of the couch as if his legs have given out on him.

Darcy paces back and forth along her carefully chosen path, hands clenching and relaxing, occasionally tugging at her clothes or picking at her nails. She glances over at the guys, opening her mouth to say something, but quickly pulling back, biting her lip and turning her head away. She fidgets as she walks, hands rubbing at her face, tugging at her hair, all the while never slowing her steps.

“Tasha and Clint said some things this morning that made me think.” Steve and Bucky both perk up, attention focusing sharply on the quiet words. “About choice and regret. Deciding what I can live with and what I can't live without. And trust.”

“And that brought you here.” Darcy pauses in her circuit as Bucky speaks up again. She takes a breath and looks at him, seeing a noticeable reduction in the tension that was obvious from the moment he walked in and found her there. Now he just looks curious as he watches her. She nods.

“I promised to think about this, but I’ve struggled to get past the part where you thought you needed to hide so much from me.”

“Fair enough. That was bad on our part. We could have trusted you more. It's something we can work on.” Bucky tilts his head, acknowledging the point. It’s the speculative look on his face that makes Darcy watch him warily as he continues. “But if we’re just talking about hiding things from each other, we’re not the only ones, Darce. There’s a lot of things you still won’t talk to us about, like Betty, or your convict ex. You avoid talking about your dad and you’ve never said a word about where you were for those months when you ran away.” Bucky ignores Steve's attempts to get him to stop talking, keeping his eyes locked on Darcy. “Hell, Darce, you never told us about Rachel, which is about the same as one of the things you’re mad at us about.”

“Nowhere near the same. I  _never_ hid that I was with Rachel,” Darcy snaps, dismissing the other parts as irrelevant to the current discussion and latching on to the one mistake in his comment. “If you didn’t notice it, that’s not my fault. You must have been the only ones who  _didn’t_ walk in on us in some kind of compromising situation. I mean, Clint did it so many times, he started just sitting down and inviting us to stay and watch TV with him.” Steve makes a sound that can only be a choked off laugh and Darcy can’t help her lips twitching up in response. It  _was_ a little ridiculous. The slight sidetrack calms her temper and gets her refocused on her plan. She sighs. “Bucky, how many times were Rachel and I here, together, where you saw us holding hands or touching, and basically hanging all over each other?”

“Yeah, but you’re like that with everyone.” Bucky shrugs. Steve collapses into the chair with a sigh, shaking his head as he looks at the ceiling.

“Give me names of everyone you’ve seen me be physically affectionate with like that,” Darcy demands, staring at Bucky with raised eyebrows. “To that same degree.” The addition tacked on the end gives him pause. His face scrunches up as he thinks about it, but he looks up at Steve’s low groan.

“Us. Just us,” Steve turns to look at Darcy, who ducks her head and nods. “And Clint. Which makes me wonder why you two never gave it a try.” Both men stare as Darcy snorts, covering her mouth with both hands to hold back the laugh. It takes a moment for her to calm down enough to speak.

“If I tell, you’re not gonna freak out like last time, are you?” She points at Steve, who shoots her a sheepish look as he rubs the back of his neck. He glances at Bucky, who shrugs, before shaking his head. Darcy crosses her arms and takes a breath. “So, Clint was actually my first kiss.” She ignores the strangled sounds coming from the guys and carries on with her explanation. “It was okay, but kinda awkward ‘cause both of us were pining for other people and we both knew it. But we recognized something in each other and it set the stage for our epic bromance, which you've all seen in action. That's it, aside from what you already know.”

“Your first kiss wasn’t until you were 15?” Steve sounds surprised, but the shift of his expression from thoughtful to understanding is swift, and Darcy remembers the overheard conversation with Jane. She nods at him.

“I don’t let people get that close easily,” Darcy shrugs and resumes her pacing. “It’s why I’m so fierce about them when I do.”

“And why you cut and run when they do something that hurts you. A lot of things about you suddenly make a lot more sense.” Bucky adds, frowning down at the floor as he thinks. “How many relationships have you actually had, Darce?”

Darcy hesitates. “Just the two.” Bucky gives a low curse and mutters something about her being practically a virgin that Darcy is pretty sure she wasn’t meant to hear. She shoots Steve a surprised look and he shakes his head in denial. He didn’t tell Bucky what she’d said. With a slight frown, Darcy turns back to Bucky. “Is that some kind of  _problem_ for you?”

“What? No, of course not. But I’m guessing having so little experience doesn’t help you much when considering our unusual request. It can't be making this choice easier for you.” Darcy shakes her head absently at Bucky’s words and speeds up her pacing a little. Lost in her thoughts, and edging closer to panic with every step, she doesn’t notice Steve moving until he appears in front of her, forcing her to stop or crash into him. She looks up into his eyes as he rests his right hand on her hip, but she doesn’t pull away. Her breath hitches as his thumb slides under the hem of her shirt, stroking the skin along the waistband of her jeans. She can't control the shiver that travels up her spine at the light touch, and there's no way, as close as he is, that Steve doesn't know exactly what effect he has on her.

“Darcy, we  _do_ have some experience with this, and we'll take things slow, but you’ll make all the calls about what you're comfortable with. We might push boundaries sometimes, but you say slow down or stop and we will.” The slow drag of skin on skin is distracting, but it is the understanding in his face as Steve watches her that calms Darcy’s rising tension. He’s figured her out, and stepped in with a timely intervention to shift the discussion away from what she’s not ready to talk about yet. It also gives him an excuse to touch her again, something he clearly enjoys if the heat in his eyes is anything to go by.

“Steve--” His eyes flick down to her lips at the breathy whisper and when he drags his eyes back up they've gone almost completely black.

“Obviously, there's still things we’ll have to figure out along the way. Preferences to negotiate.” Darcy's left eyebrow lifts at that and Steve's serious face cracks, just enough that a small, knowing smirk makes it through. “Pretty sure we've figured out a few things on our own, like how you don't respond well to orders. I also distinctly remember you threatening to rip Tony’s arm off that time he joked about spanking you.”

“Ah, those kinds of preferences.” Darcy blushes and looks down, but can't keep the small smile off her face. She takes a moment to steady herself, biting her lip as she forcefully blocks out the part of her brain that wants to start exploring preferences  _right now_. Steve doesn't say anything else until she looks up at him again.  


“Yeah, those kind. But we don't have to talk it all out now. We can figure those out as we go.” Something in the look he gives her makes Darcy suspect Steve knows more than he's saying about what brought her to their apartment. “If you say yes, I mean. If you decide you can forgive the missteps that got us here and remember that we've been friends a long time and we didn't mean to hurt you and...” His words come faster and more rambling the longer he speaks, a jumble of promises and apologies, until finally Darcy steps in.

“Steve,” instead of a repeat of the earlier whisper, her voice is firm and quick, stopping him mid-word. Darcy reaches out to tangle his tie around her right hand, giving a light tug and she watches Steve's eyes widen slightly at the realization of what she's doing. He allows her to pull him down, leaning in to her as she rolls up onto her toes to meet him halfway. " _Shut up_ ," Darcy whispers against his lips, before closing those last millimetres and kissing him.  


Steve moans low in his throat as he steadies her with the hand still at her hip, leaning farther down to follow her as she drops her heels back to the floor. Her skin tingles at the feel of his fingers sliding up her neck to tangle in her hair, tugging lightly to tilt her head and give him the perfect angle to take control of the kiss. Darcy gives in to the unrelenting heat, allowing him to lead as what started a gentle first kiss spirals into something raw and intense. That ever-present part of her brain that she struggles with so much, the one responsible for all her inappropriate thoughts, chooses this moment to speak up again, wondering if he's this good at kissing, what other things his mouth is capable of, and the thought makes her whimper. Darcy drags her mouth away, desperate for air, vaguely noting how ragged Steve's breathing is as well. She opens her eyes to see him watching and licks her lips nervously, looking down at his chest to escape how intently he follows the motion.

“You made your choice before you walked through our door tonight,” as close as she is, still held against him, feeling his heart pounding beneath the hand still wrapped around his tie, Darcy barely hears the words. She nods carefully but doesn't look up, worried about what she might see. Fingers beneath her chin nudge gently until she lifts it and meets Steve's eyes. She sighs in relief that he's not upset, but smiling. His gaze flicks off to the side for a moment and his thumb presses lightly against her chin to get her to turn and look.

Across the room, Bucky is on his feet. He has moved away from the couch but still hangs back, as if hesitant to intrude on their moment. Keeping his hand on Darcy’s hip as he turns her to face Bucky, Steve shifts behind her. He tightens his arm around her waist and she feels him against her back, hunching down to brush his lips against her neck. “Your move, Darce.” His low whisper sends another shiver up her spine and she feels the grin he presses against her right shoulder, never taking his eyes off Bucky.

Darcy bites her lip as she focuses her attention on Bucky. He watches them with a hunger that makes Darcy's knees go weak, and she's suddenly glad for Steve curled around her the way he is, keeping her upright. But Bucky still hasn't moved any closer and Darcy knows she has to make the first move. She holds her hand out to him. It's a long moment before he steps forward to take it, but when he does, Darcy links their fingers and tugs him close, trapping Steve's arm between them.

“Are you sure?” Bucky’s voice is steady, his eyes searching her face for any signs of doubt. Darcy nods, but Bucky shakes his head. “Need to hear you say it, Darce.”

She takes a breath to make sure her voice is as steady as her resolve. “I know there's still a lot we have to figure out, but I  _am_ sure if I  _don't_ try to make this work for us, I’ll regret it.” Bucky leans down, but instead of a kiss, he rests his forehead against hers and closes his eyes. Darcy savours the moment of calm, but has to look up when he starts to chuckle. “Something funny?”

“Guess we really did have a deal.” It takes a second for what he’s saying to click, and Darcy lets out a startled laugh.

“Jane was right. You are a mouthy little shit.” Bucky just smiles, making no move to get closer or pull away, and Darcy rolls her eyes. Of course he’s waiting for her to do it. She feels Steve’s laugh rumble against her back, and can’t help thinking how right it feels held between them. Darcy grins as she reaches her free hand up behind his neck and pulls Bucky down, determined to kiss the cheeky smirk off his face. "So why don't you put it to better use?" She isn't disappointed.


End file.
